LETTERS

- originally written on an old notebook while on quarantine because of the Covid-19 Pandemic.

By: Jhela Mae Alvez

Genre: Drama

Language: English

Created: June 14, 2020

SUMMER OF 2010:

At the age of 13, my mother died because of breast cancer, I was an only child and during those grieving days, I can't tell anyone what I feel, I can only cry. I couldn't shout, I couldn't speak. I was deaf and mute.

My dad was devastated, I felt my whole world crumbled because of that. My dad changed too, the father that I couldn't ask for more- suddenly vanished.

I lost my mother, and because of that, I lost my father too.

My dad became so depressed, and because of that it trigger back all of his bad vices, he started using cigarettes again, well he stopped using those things when he met my mom.

After a couple of days, I discovered that he was also using illegal drugs.

I badly want to tell the authorities, hoping they can help me bring back my dad, hoping he'll stop and regret the bad things he was doing but my inability to speak up is stopping me to do my original plan. I know they can help me, but i'm too shy.

The night after I found out that he was doing drugs, all of his friends came to our house. I thought that was it, I thought they will help me with dad, but I thought wrong, they will help dad, by using those drugs too.

I don't know what's happening, if i'm in a very terrible nightmare, I would want to wake up, but slapping myself in my own thoughts, looks like it's not.

I locked myself at my room, I was afraid, knowing that there are sick and addicts at the living room, they are capable unhuman things, because they are out of their minds and the drugs can make them feel at ecstacy.

I tried sleeping, soothing myself down but after several minutes, there was a loud thud coming from my door. I gathered myself up as unusual feelings started to creep in me.

In my head was one thing. I want to escape.

It was too late to think of any escape. My door was destroyed and the person behind it was my father's bestfriend.

And basically, it was also my god-father. His eyes were bloodshot and his hands are shaking while looking at me with pure lust.

He was out of his mind, and he was taking slow steps near me.

I shooked my head out of disapproval. His steps getting heavy. I don't understand myself at that time, I can't move, my head is a mess, I wanted to escape but i'm stilled in my position.

With full force, I ran out before he can even go near my bed, I quietly passed our living room, it was still occupied with my dad's friends, they were still in their illegal sessions.

Everything quickly happened, I was standing at our front porch, as people wearing protection in their body wuth guns in hands, storm inside our house, some people were asking me what happened to me, but I can't speak and I was busy looking at my father who never even gave a glance at me, he was handcuffed and that made me sigh in relief.

This is what I wanted. I know i'm okay, I know my dad is in good hands.

At the age of three, my parents discovered that I have a disability, I couldn't mutter a simple mama or papa.

So in my early age they enrolled me in a sign language class, along with themselves so they can understand me too.

I know there were a lot of improvements because growing up, I never felt that I was different from the normal kids, but because I wasn't able to speak up, they won't understand me, I never made friends.

SUMMER OF 2020:

Years later, I graduated from a great university as a teacher.

My disability never stopped me from gaining my passion, my dream. Now i'm working as a subject teacher for deaf people like me. Aiming and encouraging people to study and work hard and never minding any disabilities they have.

And the reason I made it, was mail letters I received.

One night after our house was raided by the police, the authorities tried taking me, I refuse but because I was underage they took control in me.

But during my days in their hands, I always receive post cards. And inside those mail letters, is money.

At first, I thought it was only a wrong send. But the people who are taking care of me assured that it was for me.

I don't know what to do with the money so I hid them for a long time. At the age of eighteen I left that agency for kids.

I settled on myself with the money that I was receiving monthly.

I enrolled myself at a school, I was with no one but I was inspired by the simple messages that came from the mail letters.

One of the letters said,

Nice to meet you, Julie.

Please take this money, it's not a lot but I hope it will help you. Please continue your education, I will send you monthly. Take it, please.

-Y.M.J

I was curious. Who is Y.M.J? Why would he send me a big amount of money? Do I have relatives left?

But I was so thankful, that money help me achieving my dreams. And I was hoping I get to meet her or him someday.

When I graduated, I stopped receiving those letters and money. Maybe she or he was thinking that I can now find a good job and now I can provide for myself now.

But I was disappointed, I wanted to meet my provider. Even if it's just a minute long phone call.

But after my work, I tried sending a letter, with the address said on the recent mail letters I receive. And I was thinking on going to that address, but I can't without permission.

I waited for days, then I received a reply!

The message says,

We are so happy that you graduated, Julie. Unfortunately, your benefactor is in a critical state, and I know you want to meet her. Yes, she's a female and she will be glad meet you. You know the address, go to that place, and don't worry she understands and knows sign language.

I didn't expect that reply. I was expecting that she'll say her greetings and that's it. But I like this more. I'll get to meet her!

Saturday came and I was very excited to meet her, I don't just treat her as a provider or benefactor but I treat her as a relative and a long distant family to me.

Shockingly, the address took me to an exclusive village. Well that explain the money, I know she was rich, the amount says it.

Her house was big! A water-fountain front mansion, just exactly what I read on pocketbooks.

I met her. I met my benefactor. I met my almost-family. Especially, I met my mother. Yes, my mother.

"Your mother known was your dad's new wife. I was the first one. We didn't work out well so we decided to split up when you were just one year old." She said while holding my hand.

I never felt this before. I was too young to feel my mother, my known mother.

"Your dad kept you. And I wasn't able to fight for my rights, because I was weak. I already have cancer that time. I promised that I will get you when i'm okay. Then I was healed. I was free from cancer. But when I talked to your dad, your dad told me that you're dead." She said and we both stilled as tears filled her eyes.

"I was begging for an explanation, but he said that you died because of a car accident. I tried asking for the location of your grave but he didn't told me. I looked everywhere, I looked through the whole Philippines, but I failed." She managed to smile even her eyes were filled with tears.

She squeezed my hands.

"After many years, I found out that your dad is in a rehabilitation, I begged and begged for your location. Then he finally told me. You are alive, you're not dead and you're deaf." She whispered the last part.

I kept quiet, afraid that I might ruin that moment with my mother.

"But I didn't want to face you. I was ashamed. I felt like I left you when you needed me the most." That's when my mother's tears all fell down.

After all these years. My own mother provided for me. I was at ease to know I still have a mother.

I am still thankful for my known mother for treating me like her own. For loving my dad, for providing me my needs too.

I met my mother's husband too. He is so affable and hospitable, he even calls me his daughter. I admire the affection and everything. I admire him accepting my mother and loving her.

I also found out that she was in a real critical state, her cancer came back, it was breast cancer and she is in her stage 2.

I cried and told her what I feel, and for the first time. I know I have someone, someone to tell me what I really feel. Someone I can rely on.

And after two summers. My mom couldn't make it, she died peacefully.

I have no regrets, at least I get to spend my incredible two years with her.

Days after she died, my stepfather handed me a letter.

"She was about to send this to you during your graduation personally but she didn't have the courage to." He smiled and handed me a letter.

"Thank you." I said as he hand me the letter.

My tears overflowed as I read the last letter I got from my mom.

I love you, my daughter.

Sorry if mommy is too afraid to face you. I'm ashamed that I missed your growing days, sorry if you have to go through everything without me. I know if I knew you're alive, I would have been a good mother to you. I love you so much. See you soon.

-Y.M.J (your mother,

Janine)

After all that has happened, I finally learned to embrace myself. I know i'm complete

-JULIE MORALES | 2010-2020-